Eye of the Hurricane
by Shadow Of Castiel
Summary: It was a cold, clear night and the stars were watching overhead, the moon adding to their light, shining down upon Dean Winchester as he leant against the hood of the Impala. Rated M for adult content. Dean/Castiel


Author's Notes: This is written for my good friend Izzy, who requested "a Titanic moment" with Dean and Cas in the back of the Impala. The chicken eating scene is my request . The title comes from lyrics from "It's The End of the world (as we know it)" by REM. As usual, I own none of the characters involved in this fic, that honor goes to Mr Eric Kripke.

It was a cold, clear night and the stars were watching overhead, the moon adding to their light, shining down upon Dean Winchester as he leant against the hood of the Impala. He was chewing slowly upon a fried chicken leg, the now mostly empty bucket of KFC chicken sitting unchecked on the shiny hood beside the hunter. His green eyes were half closed, grease staining his lips, as he made small noises of enjoyment as he chewed the chicken.

He didn't even notice that Castiel was even there until the angel spoke, his gruff voice breaking the hungry silence and making Dean startle for a moment.

"What's that you're eating?" the angel asked, head tilted to one side in open curiosity, blue eyes seemingly transfixed by the half eaten chicken leg grasped in Dean's hand.

"It's chicken. Surely you know what chicken is? Jimmy must have eaten it at some point," Dean replied, pointing to Castiel's chosen vessel when he referred to him.

"Jimmy may have done, but I have not," came Castiel's response, as the angel stood, watching the chicken in rapt fascination.

"Try some," Dean offered, pushing the cardboard bucket beside him closer to the angel, which surprisingly went ignored.

The angel closed the distance between them, getting closer to Dean than should have been comfortable, yet Dean found that he didn't mind the intrusion of personal space. Ever since he'd first slept with the angel, the hunter had welcomed any kind of contact at all with him. Even though it had been three weeks since their first time, the angel still had that compelling presence that reached deep within Dean, to turn his stomach to butterflies, to make lust coil through him like the most luscious of snakes.

The hunter watched as Castiel gently grasped Dean's wrist in slender fingers, before the angel leant down slightly to meet the piece of chicken in mid air as he manoeuvred Dean's hand closer to himself. His lips parted and teeth nipped at the chicken; eyes closed shut in obvious satisfaction as the fried treat settled on the vessel's tongue, flooding the angel's senses with the taste of it.

Dean couldn't quit staring, lips parted, breath coming in short, ragged gasps, as the angel leant in closer to take another bite of the chicken. The hunter stifled a moan of desire, want and need overtaking his brain, doing things to his body that he wanted to satisfy. He continued to watch the angel eat from his fingers daintily, eat until the chicken had disappeared, until all Dean was left with was the bone clutched in trembling fingers. The angel relieved Dean of the offending bone, throwing it next to the others on the ground, but he did not let go of Dean's wrist. Instead he continued grasping it, holding it between gentle fingers, before he leant down once again, to lick at Dean's grease stained fingers with rapid strokes of a confident tongue.

Dean did groan aloud then at the contact, feeling the lust roar though him, like some untamed monster reigning supreme, and it took all of his composure to remain where he was, and not to just pin the angel to the hood of the Impala and take him there. Instead, he remained where he was, as Castiel flicked a knowing gaze up at the hunter, amusement lodged deep in his eyes as though he knew what Dean had been thinking. A slight shake of his head told the hunter that now was not quite the time; maybe later.

Dean obeyed, but with a struggle, just watched as Castiel slowly cleaned the rest of Dean's hand with little laps of an almost kitten like tongue. Dean almost came undone when the angel closed lips around one of Dean's fingers, drawing the digit in, eyes closed as he sucked and lapped at the hunter's finger, long after it was clean.

"Oh, God, Cas," Dean said, his teeth gritted against the pleasure, the lust threatening to overtake him.

His cock was hard, straining against the fabric of his jeans, demanding attention, wanting release, needing pleasure, and Dean would be damned if he didn't get what he wanted. What, or rather who, he wanted was Castiel, who by now was repeating his earlier gestures with his second finger, drawing the digit slowly, languidly into his mouth, cheeks hollowing out slightly as he lapped and suckled at Dean.

Dean rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, then pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he stifled the urge once again to just take Castiel where he stood. It seemed as though the angel was taking pleasure from his current act, so Dean was willing to let him get his jollies.

The hunter waited not quite so patiently, until Castiel had finished, warm lips leaving Dean's hand slightly dampened to the ravages of the chill night air. The angel raised eyes to Dean's, a challenging look within them as though once again, he knew what Dean wanted, telling Dean with one look that he wanted it too.

Dean didn't hesitate, just closed the gap between them, in one swift movement, pressing desperate lips to Castiel's own, lacing hungry fingers in the angel's hair, drawing him closer, rubbing his free hand over Castiel's cock, finding the angel was already hard. Castiel whimpered out his need, his lust at the contact, moaned into Dean's open mouth, before he found himself pressed flat against the hood of Dean's Impala, cheek touching cold metal, making him shiver slightly.

He didn't protest when he felt Dean's hand reach round, fumbling at the clasp to his belt, tugging it free, and pushing his dark pants out of the way, dropping them to the floor in abandonment. He didn't even protest when Dean's spit slick hand entered him, preparing him for Dean's hard cock, and he cried out in undisguised pleasure when the hunter thrust into him roughly. He blinked, staring up at the multitudes of stars smiling down upon them, at the kind moon lighting the very heavens with her borrowed halo and he murmured encouragements to Dean, uttered cries of pleasure every time Dean thrust into him anew, long fingers digging into Castiel's flesh where the hunter gripped him, to steady him.

Castiel continued to stare at the stars, feeling their beauty, feeling the lust rise deep within him, pooling in his abdomen, and his world started to unravel at the seams. Dean's thrusts became more erratic, more urgent, the closer Dean came to his own release, and the hunter threw his head back as he climaxed, filling his angel with his release. He cried to the heavens, letting the stars hear the angel's name, before Castiel's voice joined his, in declarations of love and Dean's name.

They rode out the aftershocks of their combined orgasms, Castiel slowly standing to lean into Dean for support, duly given. He stared into Dean's eyes, usually so guarded, but never with him; at least in recent times. He leant in to kiss the hunter gently, before leaning his forehead against Dean's in a borrowed gesture from Jimmy. They stood like that for some time, alternately kissing and running questing hands over willing flesh, until the sounds of a passer by broke the silence over all.

Castiel laid a finger on Dean's lips, begging for quiet without a single word spoken, until the intruder had passed by, without ever knowing the hunter and the angel were even there. Dean laughed quietly against Castiel's finger, and the usually taciturn angel even began to smile, eyes lighting up with warmth and humor, relief shining through at their close escape.

Castiel dropped his hand to his side, finger falling away from Dean's lips, leaving Dean free to lean in and steal another kiss, hard cock rubbing against Castiel's erection. Both moaned at the contact before Dean broke the kiss, leaning in to nibble on Castiel's earlobe. Castiel closed his eyes, lips parted slightly into a smile, shifting slightly on unsteady feet, Dean's sweat-stained palms snagging slightly on bare hips.

Neither of them knew who made the first move, maybe it was Dean, maybe it was Castiel himself: either way, it didn't really matter. All that mattered right then was the feel of the Impala's upholstery against Dean's knees, Castiel leaning into and over him, wingtips stroking across hunter's flesh, drawing pleasured moans and goosebumps in their wake. All that mattered next was Castiel arching his back, gripping Dean's hips possessively, thrusting into Dean, while Dean cried out, combined breaths, pants, moans of pleasure fogging the back windows. Condensation mingled with sweat as Castiel took Dean; the hunter bracing himself against the seat, before reaching out for extra support, palm running slickly down the window in front of him. Dean would later make a joke that it was his own personal Titanic moment, but at the time, all he thought about was Castiel and pleasure and feathers, feeling like he was in the eye of a hurricane.

Castiel's wings left Dean's body for an instant, stopped their loving caresses, standing to attention as much as the confined space inside the car would allow, as the angel lost the battle against his growing climax, coming hard within the hunter, hands convulsing against Dean's hips as he cried out for the hunter beneath him. He thrust into Dean with the last of his orgasm before wrapping one still trembling hand around Dean's cock, making quick work of finishing the hunter off with a few well timed strokes. Dean rode the waves of bliss coursing through him as he came for the angel, crying out for him on choked breaths.

Neither of them spoke, just disentangled arms, legs, bodies from around one another, making a mirror image in the back seat as both reclined in sated pleasure, heads resting on the back of the seat, both pairs of eyes closed and smiles touching kiss stained lips.

The silence between them was eventually broken by the sound of Dean's cell phone ringing; Sam, no doubt, ringing to enquire at Dean's long absence.

"I'd best get that," Dean groaned, not looking particularly gracious about the intrusion.

Castiel watched him, while he took his phone call, before Dean announced he had to leave, to return to Sam's side. Castiel nodded out his acceptance, before he ghosted away on shadowy wings, leaving Dean with the long drive back alone to the motel room.

The hunter took some comfort in the fact that Castiel had left his tie in the passenger seat, as though in unspoken signal that he would return ....

fin.


End file.
